


Me falta el aliento

by 2davidbeckham3



Category: Football RPF
Genre: (there's not much turn of the century stuff in here except newspapers and landlines), I wanted to write a late 90s/early 00s fic so here it is, M/M, Rated for swearing, made up/vague timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7289602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2davidbeckham3/pseuds/2davidbeckham3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luis tries to deal with a crush by ignoring it and ends up taking his crush (Pep) on a not-date in his efforts to stay "just friends." Featuring flying plastic cutlery, something akin to jealousy, a Disney movie, and the classic trope of having to share a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me falta el aliento

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello.
> 
> So, I didn't write this with the mindset that it was related to my other fic, but it can be if you want it to be. It's a little weird and I do admit that the story got away from me seeing as it is 3 in the morning - not to mention that I can't describe anything to save my life - but I'll be back here to edit. I'm also not used to writing in present tense, but I thought I'd give it a try! Anyways, I hope the bit that they're fools that don't know how to deal with emotions gets through.
> 
> There's quite a bit of swearing so it might be M, but I don't know, just warning you all. Nothing zesty.
> 
> Also it's really hard to translate _"pase entre líneas"_ into English.
> 
> I got the title from [ this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rcx3OfjKUt4&spfreload=5) song.
> 
> Edit: there are so many run on sentences and I don't know what to do with myself so I apologize in advance.

 

Luis is on the ground grimacing in pain after a particularly hard tackle during training. He distantly hears the defender who tackled him yell his apologies, his voice getting farther and farther as he runs to pressure whoever has the ball now.

The sun’s harsh rays are blocked out by a shadow, the orange glow framing the person in a makeshift halo, “Are you alright?” The shadow asks. It sounds amused.

Luis sighs in response, grumbling exaggeratedly for good measure before closing his eyes. “Just dandy,” He nearly growls before throwing his arm up to cover his eyes, hoping to extend this quick moments’ rest before standing up to do it all again – he really is exhausted, if his panting breath and delayed reaction time weren’t evidence enough already.

His companion snickers in response before he’s tugging at Luis’ arm, laughing even louder at Luis’ protests. Luis would have been truly angry at their persistence, if it wasn’t for the fact that their laugh made him smile. He briefly thought about the word angelic to describe it until a particularly harsh tug nearly brought him to his feet and almost tearing his arm from his shoulder to boot. It seemed that his fatigue was really making him weak.

“Okay, Pep. Okay, I got it,” Luis shake his head, trying to glare at Pep when he finally dropped his arm and stood up. Sadly, the severe expression that Luis tries going for is ruined by his twitching lips as he tried to fight back a smile.

“Atta boy,” Pep teases, raising his hand as if he's going to ruffle Luis’ close cropped hair, instead choosing to squeeze Luis’ shoulder at the last second.

Luis feels the rest of the guys running towards them, the stampede causing the ground to shake while they chased after the ball. It all fades away, for a moment, when Pep steps closer to Luis and leans in unexpectedly with a warm smile on his face. “It’s almost over,” he murmurs, referring to their training, punctuating his statement by squeezing Luis’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Luis nods in response and tries to get his breathing back under control while he watches Pep run over to the rowdy group to try to steal the ball from Figo. Luis’ increased heart-rate is due to their intense training session, nothing else.

 

Pep slings an arm over Luis shoulder at the end of the day and pulls him in for a one-armed hug as his goodbye. Luis thinks he has a problem when his lips pull up into an uncontrollable smile at the gesture. He realizes he has a problem when his heart starts racing again after Pep smiles back.

 

-

 

It won’t happen again, he tells himself. It was a one-time event caused by his exhaustion coupled with Pep’s kind gestures. It would have been the same situation if it was anyone else.

But the feelings don’t subside over the next couple of weeks, Luis isn’t keen to accept his feelings but, rather, chooses to label them a burden. Thus, this leads to Luis being very frustrated during their Copa game. He definitely _did_ not get butterflies when he saw Pep make a perfect pass that cut through the other team’s defense that's, honestly, half a goal – it was too bad that Rivaldo was offside – and Luis is downright pissed during their Liga games during the weekends because it's nearly impossible to properly celebrate goals, including his own, since, apparently, Pep’s hugs weren’t long enough. 

Luis chooses, instead, to wait his feelings out, however problematic they were. He's tired of getting strange looks from Kulivert because _wasn’t he happy that he scored a goal?_ Ignoring feelings is harder than he first thought, but Luis is stubborn and vows to let them run their course. Ignoring one’s infatuation seems nearly impossible, but it isn’t his fault that he started liking Pep, who's probably the most unavailable person on the team.

Luis is probably the only person on earth that would ride out a crush due to sheer stubbornness, but as his ex would say, that it's probably due to his being a Taurus. Of course, he didn’t believe any of that horoscope bullshit, especially when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him after she found out that their signs weren’t compatible.

He’s angrily stabbing at his salad, mumbling to himself thinking about other things his various exes would say about his current situation when a bickering pair sits next to him at lunch.

“Honestly Xavi, I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t believe me, then, Puyi,” Xavi snaps, banging his tray on the table when he sets his food down. When he drags his chair out to sit Xavi purposely scrapes the legs on the floor, the angry screeching successful in not only annoying Carles, but Luis as well. “Tell him, Puyi,” Xavi huffs before stuffing his face with a large forkful of lettuce. “Maybe he’ll believe me,” he mutters, covering his mouth with his hand, though it did nothing to hide out his comically puffed out cheeks.

Puyi’s too busy having a stare off with Xavi to respond to Luis immediately. He lets them be and turns back to his food because he knows el mister would be pissed if he found out Luis is skiving off on his food.

“Xavi went on a date.”

The statement startled Luis and made him gasp in surprise, the sharp intake of breath apparently causing the lettuce to go towards his trachea instead of his esophagus “He what?” Luis manages to splutter before he begins to cough, his eyes quickly welling up with tears. Surprisingly, or rather, unsurprisingly, Xavi and Puyi make no efforts to help him, instead choosing to continue to glare at each other while Luis chokes on what he now believes is the worst salad in the world.

Rolling his eyes, Luis reaches over to steal Puyi’s juice, even though his own's sitting unopened in front of him, and takes a large swig before speaking up again. “You went on a date, Xavi?” Luis asks carefully, tone even.

“Why is that a surprise to everyone?” Xavi exclaims, throwing his hands in the air – and throwing his fork over his shoulder in the process.

“I never said it was a surprise,” Luis mumbles, slowly placing the drink back in front of Puyi. Xavi, however, is inconsolable and began to rant, cursing everything from Puyol and the fork that wouldn’t stay in his hands. Because of this, he didn’t catch the petulance in Luis’ tone, nor his frown at the fact that the children on the team were getting more action than him.

“It’s no big deal anyways,” Xavi sighs when he finished rambling, poking forlornly at the rest of his salad with a spoon. “She said she didn’t want to see me anymore, said I was ‘too into football.’ How can you be ‘too into football?’ There’s no such thing as too much football.”

“That’s what I said,” Puyi quips, turning to Luis with an amused grin. “Maybe you should go out with Pep, Xavi. He’s into football, too.” 

Xavi snorts, reaching over to steal Luis’ fork in place of giving Puyi a proper response.

Luis does so in his place, “Very funny, Carles,” he grumbles.

“I mean it. Can’t you imagine- What would dirty talk even be like? You guys listing off Real’s stat- Ow, Xavi!” Puyi yelps. Xavi stepped on his foot.

“Shut up, won’t you, Puyol.” Xavi replies flatly, punctuating his statement by taking another large bite of his salad, glaring at Puyi once again.

While that exchange went on, Luis turned around to look over at Pep’s table to make sure that he didn’t hear what Puyi is currently going on about. Satisfied that Pep's deeply engrossed in his conversation with Figo, valiantly ignoring an unidentifiable feeling creeping in his stomach, Luis turns back around and elbows Puyol for good measure. “Keep your sick fantasies to yourself,” Luis teases, the need to mock Puyi outweighing the churning in his stomach.

 

-

 

Luis caves a few weeks later.

Being friends with Pep turns out to be harder than he thought. He assumes it’s because he’s out of practice, remembering that the last time he felt this way for someone different color stripes adorned his jersey and still worried about passing his next algebra test. Luis is more the type to speak his mind and he’s not just stubborn, but impatient as well. He’s tired of these feelings he feel like he can’t control, sweaty palms and blushes that are more fitting for those in _Cadete_ than him.  Thankfully, Pep’s oblivious or Luis is hiding his responses better than thinks.

He’s home alone and practice doesn’t start until late tomorrow morning since they’re going up against a third division team in Copa and the full squad isn’t required to play. He’s stayed home a lot over the past few weeks, well, more so than usual. Luis has always been a homebody, but it’s hard to go clubbing when he’s comparing every single person to his stupid _capità_ that would rather talk to the Portuguese Luís instead of him.

Luis stares at the phone for a few moments, debating whether or not he should call Pep since it was kind of late. Well, not that late, but what if Pep thought it was too late to do anything since the sky's already inky black? He picked up the receiver before he could chicken out, tightening his grip on the phone every time he heard the dial tone. He wasn’t going to hang up. He wasn-

_“Hello?”_

“Uh, hey, Pep,” Luis rasps in response, flinching as he cleared his throat because of course this would happen to him.

 _“Luis?”_ He notes that Pep sounds surprised, but, thankfully not angry. _“What’s up?”_

“Are you busy?” Luis asks, but his nerves seem to have gotten the better of him and continues to speak before he loses his courage without allowing Pep to reply. “I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie with me. There’s this movie theater close to me that shows old movies and” Luis trails off, the momentum leaving him as soon as it came. He was rambling. “I thought you’d be interested,” Luis finishes in a rush, kind of wishing Pep says “no” because he hopes he doesn’t sound half as desperate as he feels he does. Luis is regretting this conversation entirely, at this point, because who did he think he was? He kept his relationship with Pep strictly cordial for these last weeks and now he’s calling him up and asking him out – as a friend, if anything – like he was entitled to it.

 _“I’d love to,”_ Pep interrupts Luis’ bout of self-loathing. _“Give me a few minutes to change and I’ll-”_

“I can pick you up,” Luis interjects, barely refraining from punching the nearest flat surface because interrupting Pep was exactly what he wanted to do. “It’s the least I can do,” Luis laughs, hoping that Pep couldn’t tell it was due to nerves.

_“It’s no problem, Luis.”_

The exchange a few more details, like agreeing when Luis was going to pick Pep up before hanging up. Pep only lives a few minutes away so Luis spends the majority of his time waiting pacing around his living room and convincing himself that _this is not a date_. Friends go to see movies together and even though Luis has…feelings for Pep, Pep doesn’t have any for Luis. And it’s fine, it’ll be like any other day. It’ll be like normal, just two friends hanging out. A friend Luis finds very attractive, but still. Friends hang out and this is definitely not a date. 

Luis had to run out of his house because he nearly made himself late pacing around and feeling sorry for himself. He chose a simple long-sleeved shirt for the outing, not even a button-up, but it didn’t stop him from checking his hair at every red light.

He barely pulled up to the house, not even having a moment to think whether or not he should go up and knock on Pep’s door when he sees a familiar sweater-clad figure walk out of the house and lock the door. It’s too far to check out Pep’s ass, but it doesn’t stop Luis from trying.

“Hi,” Pep grins at Luis after buckling up his seatbelt. Luis probably takes a moment too long to say “Hey” back, but Pep didn’t seem to mind, only smiling wider in response.

They chit-chat for a bit, during which Luis keeps on running his fingers through his hair, ruining all of his previous primping because of his nervous habit in the process. Pep asks to turn up the radio when he hears a song he likes and they fall into a comfortable silence. Comfortable on Pep’s part at least, but Luis doesn’t have to sit in the uncomfortable stillness for long since Pep starts to hum along to the song.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Pep asks once there’s a short musical interlude and Luis can’t help but smile at the giddiness in his voice.

“Yes, Pep,” Luis scoffs sarcastically, glancing over at Pep with smirk. “I mind. _So much_.”

“Ass,” he laughs, punching Luis’ arm.

The band’s singing again and Pep takes Luis’ approval as encouragement to sing along with them while Luis wills the green light ahead of him to turn red so he can blame his ever present blush on that.

 

It takes them a few minutes to find a parking spot and they both get a little nervous that they’re going to miss the start of the movie since it’s so far away from the cinema. Luis then realizes that he forgot to look in the newspaper to see what they were showing and that he even had enough time to call ahead, He’s kicking himself over this massive misstep before Pep laughs, companionably tossing his arm over Luis’ shoulders. “It’ll be a surprise, then. That’s always fun,” he says, giving Luis’ shoulder’s a quick squeeze before dropping his arm. Pep doesn’t step back, but chooses to stay close enough to Luis that their shoulders brush when they walk. At least Luis can say that this not-date was good at getting him used to his feelings, in the end. It was a little bit harder to breathe around Pep and that was just fine. An increased heart-rate and goofy smiles were just occupational hazards he’d have to learn to accept.  

A group of darkly dressed teenagers are milling around the ticket booth and Luis is wondering when this became such a trendy hang out spot before he rushes behind Pep who was elbowing his way through the not-so happy crowd. Luis was having a tough time making sure he wouldn’t get injured by the silver studs that they seemed to have on everything and got his feet kicked a couple of times by their clunky boots.

“What’s showing?” Pep asks, breathless. He’s leaning back against Luis a bit, who suddenly found himself with more room than he expected. It seemed the teens were wandering around the cinema in a distant hemisphere, but he could feel their stares on him, barely repressing a shudder. What if they were noticed who they were?

“ _Aladdin. Disney’s Aladdin,”_ A nasally voice replies and Luis suddenly remembered that he was using this morning’s newspaper to dry his shoes.

Luis is quickly regretting his decision of asking Pep out at all, since they did have practice the next day, not to mention that the nasally voice remains silent indicating that _Aladdin_ was the only movie showing, when Pep turns to him and says “I like Disney.”

Pep searches Luis’ expression for any protest. When he finds none, Pep turns back around and asks for two tickets with his most charming smile.

 “You didn’t have t- I was going to-”

“Buy me some snacks,” Pep interrupts with a wry smile, silencing Luis’ protests.

Luis chuckles in agreement, barely concealing his relief that his laughter lacks the hysteric edge that he was sure it would have, since his nervous energy left him in a rush. “Remember that I’m on a footballer’s budget, yeah?”

“I’ll try my hardest,” Pep scoffs. “Fair warning, though, I like mixing salty and sweet.”

“You’re making that up.”

Pep nudges Luis’ side with his elbow, “I promise you, I’m not.”

That’s how they find each other making their way to their seats with more popcorn and sweets than any professional football player should have on a monthly basis. It’s only logical, Luis reminds himself that they sit close together, leaning heavily on the shared armrest. They have to share their food somehow.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Pep whispers conspiratorially, offering Luis some of his chocolate caramel candy.

“Deal.” Luis doesn’t even bother to hide his wide smile when their fingers brush.

The movie theatre slowly becomes more crowded as the moody teens from the outside decided to follow their example instead of loitering outside of the establishment. Luis wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse, but he did agree with them about the fact that he couldn’t see how a film that wasn’t even a decade old was classified as a classic.

 

They wandered around the city for a bit after the movie, using the age old excuse that it was good for their digestion. The excuse wasn’t needed, however, because neither of them had actually seen _Aladdin_ before and conversation flowed easily after that. It continued to their ride back to Pep’s place until Luis found that he couldn’t speak - the lump in his throat from the beginning of the day had returned.

“I had fun,” Pep says suddenly, breaking Luis from his reverie. Luis manages to nod once he makes eye contact and tries his hardest not to break it. Pep continues to stare at him and Luis swallows thickly, nervous at the fact that he can’t read Pep’s expression. He’s trying to think of something to say when Luis sees Pep nod minutely before leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Luis,” And Pep’s brief smile is the last thing Luis sees before Pep gets out of his car.

Luis makes sure that Pep’s in his house before he punches his steering wheel and continues to do so until his hands hurt. He rests his forehead against the cold leather and lets out a guttural groan because he knows he fucked up somehow.

 

He drives back home more confused than ever and wishing he still had some sour straws.

 

-

 

Pep doesn’t ignore him in practice the next day, but it’s something close to it. Luis barely realizes this because he’s too amused at the fact the Xavi’s love life has become the subject of Puyi’s teasing, again, and is too entertained thinking about what the pair would say about the fact that he basically went on a date with Pep Guardiola. Luis accepted that his love life was just one big joke and if he could laugh, albeit painfully, at his dumb crush, then everyone else could too.

It wasn’t just difficult to breathe around Pep now, it was a bit painful. He was still attracted to him, which was the fucking best, or worst, depending on the day he was having. Now his infatuation came coupled with the bone crushing disappointment that comes from one knowing that they likely missed a once in a lifetime opportunity or whatever the hell that was in the car. Luis still didn’t know how he should have responded, but silence wasn’t the answer.

No matter, he’d learn to live with this, too.

 

Game day comes faster than expected and el mister wants to make sure his first team is ready for the Champions League and sends his first squad against the third tier team they were going to face, having changed his mind at the last minute. Everyone tries to make the best of the situation, especially when they know that they’re going to be playing in less than optimal conditions if the sky continued looking the way it is. The first night there, however, is when the team is tested due to the fact that a key member of the squad was being rested, thus ruining their usual sleeping arrangements, not to mention the fact that the small hotel they were staying at could only manage enough rooms for the team with single beds. No one was happy about sharing beds.

Luis is chatting amicably with Kulivert when someone pounds on their door.

“Puyol!” Kluivert calls out, his surprise at the other’s visit drowned out in his friendly tone. “What brings you here?” He asks before looking over his shoulder to give Luis a wink.

Instead of wondering whatever the hell Patrick meant with that gesture, Luis’ eyes focus on the pillow under Carles’ arm.

“He snores.” Puyol states while looking directly at Luis. “Loud.”

“So? What the hell do you want me to do about it?” Luis quirks a brow, his previously good mood quickly turning into confusion.

“Switch.”

“What? Oh no,” Luis stands up, throwing the remote on the bed, and walks over to tower over Puyol, hands on his hips. “No, no, no, no, no. No fucking way.”

Puyi glares at Luis defiantly before taking in a deep breath, “Let me through, Luis Enrique.” he says loudly, loud enough that Luis wonders if his neighbors can hear it.

_“No!”_

_“Luis, now!”_

They end up shouting at each other in the hall – Luis never says “yes” and Puyi never says “please” to even make Luis consider saying yes – long enough that a few of their other teammates wander out to see what’s going on. This causes a larger shouting match since apparently no one likes their roommate and people start pushing and manhandling each other in order to get into a different room before el mister finds out what’s going on. Somehow, Luis finds himself at the end of the small hallway with a pillow that isn’t his in his hand.

With a sigh, Luis knocks on the door and nearly considers sleeping on the dusty carpet in the hall when he’s face to face with Pep after the door opens.

“You’re not Figo,” Pep mumbles, brows furrowing in confusion.

Luis bites his cheek to keep from saying “No shit,” and instead chooses to shrug. “Everyone switched rooms.”

If anything, the lines on Pep’s forehead become even deeper and Luis is ready to ask why before Pep steps aside and says “I was brushing my teeth,” in a remorseful tone. Luis realizes that he feels guilty for not living up to his duties as captain.

“S’alright,” Luis chokes out because he feels like he has to say something and he thought it’s better to reply with that generic answer than “I knew you were brushing your teeth, your breath smells good” because that would be awkward and creepy.

Which, coincidentally, is how he feels in Pep’s room where he spots Figo’s opened suitcase, causing Luis to avert his gaze to look at anything but that.

“Do you have a preference?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“Do you have a preference?” Pep repeats walking to the foot of the bed, turning around when Luis doesn’t answer. “Side?” He asks, looking at Luis expectantly as he gestures to the mattress in front of him.

“Oh, no. No,” He replies quickly, running his fingers through his hair with free hand before dropping it to hold on to the pillow with both hands.

Pep nods before walking over to the left side of the bed, the one closest to the window. “I like this side,” and, without looking back at Luis, he laid down in the bed, back towards the door, and, subsequently, Luis.

Luis just sighs and throws his pillow on the bed before laying down. He’s on his side and as close to the edge as possible, enough that he barely has to move a finger before he’ll be sent tumbling over the edge. “ _Bona Nit_ , Pep,” Luis calls out, regardless, because he likes digging his own grave.

 

Pep wakes up earlier than Luis and he pretends he’s asleep when Pep says his name. He never finds out if it was an apology, Pep’s voice was low, not urgent like it would have been if Luis really needed to get up; he goes back to his room when Pep’s in the shower.

 

It’s a scrappy 1-0 win in the rain and mud. Luis feels like he’s soaked to the bone and shoulders past Figo when he sees him talking in hushed tones with Pep. Puyi sits on the bench next to him, silently fuming and looking pretty intimidating even though he’s lost half his height because of his wet hair. Everyone’s mood worsens when they’re told they have to stay and extra night because of the storm and Luis is wondering where he went wrong. He thinks that maybe his mistake was asking Pep out in the first place.

 

The room switch game happens again that night, but with less ceremony. Players hand each other their luggage and those that have recovered their humor make a few jokes as they make their way down the crowded hallway. Luis is particularly dreading his trip because Pep was whispering to someone else again and he was tired of being ignored, frustrated because of the game, and fed up with the fact that his crush would just not go away.

He’s laying down on his side of the bed and reading the book his cousin got him for Christmas when Pep storms in.

“I’m sick and tired of this,” Pep growls and Luis decides to focus on his book because Pep’s probably talking about their less than stellar game and the earful he probably got from their coach.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Luis,” Pep hisses and Luis looks up only to be met by Pep’s heated glare a bit closer than he remembered. Luis, however, had lived the same game as Pep and - crush or not - felt his temper rising at Pep’s audacity to address him in that way. There was no need for Pep to take his anger out on Luis because Pep wasn’t exactly an innocent party himself.

“What?” Luis asks with a scowl, tossing his book to the side to sit up and look at Pep head on.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luis only had a second to feel insulted before Pep continued, pacing around like a caged lion. “Don’t think I haven’t fucking noticed. I’m no idiot, Luis Enrique, and I don’t know why you’re making me out to be one.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t you think I’ve noticed?” Pep asks, whirling around to face Luis. _“Hm?”_  Pep takes a few steps closer to Luis, trapping him against the bed, as Luis turned to stand up, but remained sitting against the edge of the bed. It was a less than ideal position, he didn’t like the way Pep stood over him, nor how his gaze seemed to be doing more than analyzing Luis’ effectiveness in the game. “You’re absolutely infuriating.”

“Are you just going to stand there and insult me, Pep?” Luis sighs, the fight quickly leaving him now that he noticed that it would do no good to fight against a Pep Guardiola that was pissed off at the world.

Pep didn’t take to kindly to Luis’ attempt to brush him off. Instead, he began to pace again, dragging his hand down his face when he turned away from Luis. “You’re so blind. That’s what you are,” he began, before continuing to ramble to himself in low tones. It would have been an endearing act if Luis wasn’t still vaguely angry at him.

Luis glanced over at his book, debating over taking it and reading in the lobby when Pep sat down next to him. Pep put his elbows on his thighs and hid his face in his hands before he turned to Luis with an odd expression on his face. He looked defeated.

“I wish I could hate you.”

“What?” Luis croaks and suddenly he doesn’t want to blink in order to figure out what Pep meant with that.

“I wish I could hate you,” Pep repeats except, this time, there’s a sad smile on his face that breaks Luis’ heart a little. Luis hates himself when he thinks that he would agree if that’s what it took to make Pep happy, certain that he didn't feel that way just because of his crush. “I don’t think I can, though,” Pep shakes his head. “I don’t want to.” Pep sighs before resting his head on Luis’ shoulder, stunning Luis into silence - not that he could think about what to say in response to Pep’s odd declarations before that.

“You don’t- You don’t want to?” Luis repeats hesitantly, regretting every word as it leaves his mouth.

“Nope,” Pep raises his head, slowly lifting his hand to brush Luis' cheekbone with his thumb. Luis thinks whatever deity in the sky is having a field day playing with his emotions because he’s pretty sure his heart’s almost gotten whiplash from pounding because of anger and pounding because Pep was so close to him. “I like you.”

Luis has half a mind to say “Come again?” before Pep drops his gaze and grabs onto Luis’ shirt, bursting into a fit of giggles, obviously exhausted.

“I like you and I- And I thought-” Pep laughs, placing his forehead against Luis’ chest. He takes a few moments to calm down, “I don’t make a fool out of myself for just anyone, Luis Enrique.”

Luis focuses on Pep’s breath against his stomach as he tries to think of reply, but, unsurprisingly, comes up empty handed. “You mean you didn’t like _Aladdin_?” He blurts and immediately shuts his eyes because, yes, Pep wasn’t an idiot, but he sure as hell was.

This starts Pep laughing again and Luis is wondering how deep he’s digging this hole until he feels Pep’s arms wrap around his waist. “I loved it, Luis,” Pep replies when he looks up, looking calmer than Luis had seen him in days, thought, it's not as if Luis had seen him much. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, I was just checking,” Luis nods, fighting back a frown when Pep finally moves back to sit properly and removes his hands from Luis’ waist. “I wanted to kiss you that night, you know,” Luis says because Pep is standing up and surely he can’t make whatever the hell this is worse. Not to mention the fact that he misses Pep’s touch.

Pep turns around and looks at Luis incredulously. Luis thinks he’s about to get hit due to the intensity of Pep’s gaze and he wants to yell because didn’t Pep just confess? The next instant, Luis was being pushed back on the bed with one Pep Guardiola is now on top of him and straining the muscles in his thighs because of how Luis fought to keep his feet planted on the floor.

“You- You-”

“Can I kiss you now?” Luis asks because he’s tired of getting mixed signals and is wondering if this means that Pep wants to see other Disney movies with him. Or make out while they were supposed to be watching Disney movies, it didn't really matter to him anymore, at this point.

“But you’ve been acting so weird around me.”

Luis tries to shrug, but settles for grabbing Pep's waist when he can’t. “I like you. I thought I missed my chance. You were acting weird around me too, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can I kiss you know, though?” Luis repeats because, apparently, fatigue makes him brave. “I’ve been thinking about it for the last few weeks and it’s really awkward when you’re yelling at me on the field.”

Pep’s laughing a bit when he nods, but Luis kisses him anyways and it’s better than he expected.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so so so much for reading.
> 
> I don't know why I keep writing Pep since he's so hard to characterize. His characterization is all disjointed, but I promise it makes sense somehow, Lucho too, they're both really intangible, but I'm trying my hardest.
> 
> The timeline is a bit vague and weird because I wanted them to be listening to Estopa (the title song) in the car and it's a bit difficult to do so without involving other major things - Pep and Figo leaving - since their first CD was released in 2000. At any rate, take it as you may and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIzd_62yTqk) is a song where they're singing with the lead singer of the Argentinean LFC (Los Fabulosos Cadillacs) and [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HV_1VJinMpE) is a song to get those Euro feels going if you're a Roja fan.
> 
> [Mandatory pic of the Terrific Trio (sans salad)](http://www.diariogol.com/es/img2/2014/07/xavi_puyol_le-20436.jpg)
> 
> Not a lot of real notes, I don't think, but don't be afraid to hit me up on tumblr! (link's on my profile) Thanks again for reading!


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